


Fragile

by CelticKnot



Series: Mass Effect Fictober 2019 [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Fictober 2019, Gen, MEFFfictober2019, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 08:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20862890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticKnot/pseuds/CelticKnot
Summary: Shepard wants to teach Kolyat about Halloween. Written for the Fictober prompt "It's a scream."





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the timeline of _The Paths We Are Given,_ Part 4: "All I Ever Wanted."

“It’s not actually haunted, Kolyat. It’s pretend. A kids’ game.”

Kolyat blinked in confusion. “You… frighten your children… on  _ purpose?” _

“They love it. They know it’s not real. It’s fun!”

“Fun.” Kolyat shook his head. “Every time I think I’m starting to get humans figured out, you come up with some other incomprehensible… if this ‘haunted house’ is for children, why are we going?”

“Nostalgia. You, of all people, should understand that. I used to go every year when I was a kid.” Shepard leaned a hip against the table and set down her cane long enough to shrug on a warm jacket. “Come on, it’ll be a scream.”

“A… scream?” Kolyat shook his head. “Let me amend my earlier statement. It’s not humans in general.  _ You,  _ specifically, are incomprehensible.”

“Why, thank you, Kolyat,” Shepard drawled, grinning. “I try.”

* * *

The bizarre festivities didn’t stop with the “haunted” house. As Kolyat slowed the skycar to a stop, he saw what looked like some kind of fair. Vendors sold food from open-air kiosks, children painted gourds, and a small group of musicians were setting up on a stage that was little more than a few planks of wood laid over the prickly, drying grass. And everywhere were images of bones, tombstones, bats, and sinister and fantastical creatures, all in black and orange and purple.

Shepard grinned, wriggling in her seat like an excited child. “I’d almost forgotten how much I loved Fall Fest,” she said. “Come on, get us parked and I’ll show you around.”

But as Kolyat helped her out of the car, a familiar face in the crowd caught his eye, and he stopped short, frozen in horror. “Oh, no…”

“What is it?” Shepard asked with a worried frown.

Kolyat clenched his teeth, frills flushing red with embarrassment. “Captain McGann is here.”

“Really? Where?” Before he could stop her, Shepard turned and followed his gaze until the police chief caught her eye and waved. Shepard waved back.

Kolyat shrank back. “Gods, Shepard, what are you doing?” he hissed. “If she sees me here…”

“So what? Gods forbid your boss sees you having a little fun on your day off.”

“At a  _ children’s  _ event, Shepard?”

“And I say again: so what?” Shepard waved again as McGann drew nearer, smiling brightly. “Hey there, Captain! It’s good to see you!”

“Rhiannon!” McGann greeted Shepard with an embrace. “I’m off duty, girl. It’s just Kelsey.” She turned to Kolyat and reached out to shake his hand. “Krios, glad to see you out enjoying yourself. Is Rhiannon keeping you out of trouble?”

“Uh…” Kolyat had no idea how to respond to that. This was a side of Captain McGann he’d never seen before.

McGann chuckled. “Relax, Krios. It was a joke.”

Two small children, a boy and a girl, came running up to McGann’s side, waving candy-coated apples on sticks. “Grammy! Grammy, look!” the girl said. “They have caramel apples and— _ whoa!”  _ The girl’s eyes went wide as she skidded to a stop beside McGann, her brother (Kolyat presumed) close behind. “Is that Commander Shepard?” she asked in an awed stage whisper.

“That’s  _ Admiral  _ Shepard,” McGann corrected her.

“Retired,” Shepard said dismissively. She held out her hand to the children and smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Shocked into silence, the children stared in awe as she shook their hands. They probably didn’t notice, but Kolyat could see the tightness around Shepard’s eyes. She  _ hated _ doing what she called “the celebrity meet and greet thing,” but she always put on a good face. Especially for children.

“So, dropping by Fall Fest for old times’ sake?” McGann asked casually.

Shepard nodded, her smile much more genuine now. “Wouldn’t miss it. And besides”—she nudged Kolyat with her elbow—“I have to teach Kolyat about Halloween. The drell don’t have anything like it.”

Kolyat’s frills reddened again as McGann laughed. “I know there’s a lot of our culture here that’s weird to you, Krios,” she said, “but Halloween is probably about as weird as it gets. Get through this, and I guarantee not much else will surprise you.” She reached out to shake his hand again. “Have fun. See you bright and early for training tomorrow.”

“See?” Shepard said as McGann herded her grandchildren away. “No big deal. Come on, you’ve gotta see this haunted house.”

“Yeah,” Kolyat muttered. “I’m sure it’ll be a… a scream.”

Shepard laughed, bright and loud and happy. “That’s the spirit!” She paused, then laughed again. “Ha! The  _ spirit _ !”

_ Merciful Kalahira, she’s gone completely mad. _

Shepard bought two tickets at the door, and led Kolyat inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, he found himself decidedly underwhelmed. Drell had far better night vision than humans, and he could see things that were likely hidden from Shepard and the other revelers.

Speakers in the ceiling played eerie noises—creaking floors, sinister laughter, rattling chains. Puppets waited on spring-loaded mechanisms to leap out into the strobing spotlights. Costumed actors crouched in corners, ready to accost passers-by.

Up ahead, he could hear startled screams turning to peals of laughter, and shook his head in disbelief. So it was true—humans actually liked being scared. At least when they knew it was harmless, anyway.

And Shepard was no different. They’d taken only a few steps in the door when a man in a black suit swept into their path, spreading a red-lined cape like wings and baring plastic fangs. Shepard squawked in surprise, and the man hissed, then slipped away into the shadows again.

The “haunted house” was filled with such cheap tricks. Fake blood splattered every visible surface. Mechanical spiders dropped from the ceiling to dangle in their faces. Actors draped head to toe in black reached out to tap shoulders and tug at clothing. Kolyat quickly grew bored, but Shepard quickly joined the others with squeals of alternating terror and joy.

But as they neared the end of the tedious trek, more actors lurched out of the shadows. Painted and costumed to look as though they were decomposing, they shambled into the path with dangling arms and lolling heads. Some of the paint caught the ultraviolet lights, glowing in patterns of splotches along their torsos and limbs. Their eyes were blackened, giving the impression of empty, staring sockets. Their jaws hung slack. They looked, Kolyat thought with a barely suppressed sneer, absolutely ridiculous. Vaguely familiar, in an unsettling sort of way, but ridiculous.

Shepard, however, froze. She reached out and caught Kolyat’s elbow in a crushing grip, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. Her whole body trembled, and she whimpered.

Kolyat stared at her, uncomprehending at first, and then it dawned on him. Why the shambling things looked familiar, and why they frightened her so badly.

Husks. They looked like Husks: the abominations the Reapers had made of the humans they’d taken. Shepard had fought hundreds of them during the war, if not thousands. And though her memory of it was still spotty, Kolyat could almost see the flashbacks this stupid “game” was triggering.

Stepping between her and the creatures— _ people, they’re just people in idiotic costumes— _ Kolyat pulled Shepard to the side of the path and let her bury her face in his chest. She shook with silent sobs, and he could feel her tears soaking through his shirt as he stroked her hair. And as soon as the way ahead was clear, he took her hand and all but dragged her to the exit and into the light.

Outside, he could see how pale she was. She still trembled, one hand white-knuckled on her cane, the other wiping the trails of tears from her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Didn’t see that coming. Probably should’ve.” She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, then turned a wan smile up at him. “PTSD’s a bitch sometimes.”

“Now that, I understand.” Kolyat guided her one of the many hay bales scattered around the grounds and sat down beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around hers. “But you’re safe here. We’re safe.”

“I know. I just… I need a minute.”

And so they sat together, in silence, listening to the laughter of children, and the weird, jangling music. Kolyat still didn’t quite get what this “Halloween” thing was all about. The idea of fear being fun made no sense to him whatsoever. But Shepard needed him. That, he did understand. And as long as she did, he would stay.


End file.
